Loggins: Where They Know Your Name And A Thing Or Two About Candied Yams
(Staff Photo By Tom Turner)
Jerry and Lyana Loggins stand in the kitchen of Loggins restaurant on Monday.
By KELLY PREW
Food Editor
It was a snowy day in February 1949 when Paul Loggins opened the doors to one of Tyler’s landmark eateries at 137 S. Glenwood Blvd.
Food Editor
It was a snowy day in February 1949 when Paul Loggins opened the doors to one of Tyler’s landmark eateries at 137 S. Glenwood Blvd.
It took his life savings to get the small one dining room restaurant ready for business. There was some worry when the first day’s earnings totaled $32, but nearly 60 years later … well, it’s safe to say the venture was successful.
Loggins Restaurant, now owned by Loggins’ son, Jerry, has come to mean a lot to people here, as almost everyone who walks through the doors are greeted by waves, hellos and invites to sit down. Even for a first-timer, the place seems familiar somehow, and the menu still stands the test of time.
On a given day, you might see David Murray having a bite for lunch with friends Jeremy Cook and Riley Harris. Or you’ll hear the laughter from the crowd at Al Ridgeway’s table rumble through the main dining room.
Susie King, a waitress for 26 years at Loggins, will wave you in, and if you need something, she’ll get it for you.
But maybe it’s Jerry and wife, Lyana, that make it all seem effortless, almost like your presence was expected at the family table and a place has been reserved all along.
But maybe it’s Jerry and wife, Lyana, that make it all seem effortless, almost like your presence was expected at the family table and a place has been reserved all along.
(Staff Photo By Tom Turner)
From Left, Jerry Cook, Riley Harris and David Murray eat and talk at Loggins restaurant on Monday. All three men agree trying Loggins’ chicken fried steak is a must.
As he walks through the room, Jerry gets hit with “Hey pal!,” “Good to see you friend,” and “What’s going on?”
The response is almost always the same, “Good to see you, have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”
Lyana moves quickly through the room, too, greeting folks. She’s probably carrying something to the buffet you’ve just got to try. And if you time it right, she’ll just put something tasty on your plate.
“You really need to try this,” she says smiling, then flies off to another task.
Jerry says since he partnered with his dad in 1970, there’s not been a day he didn’t feel like coming in to cook.
“There’s never a ‘don’t want to’ to it,” he says. “I’ve just been doing this for so dang long — 38 years. A lot of it is common sense.”
If you ask him how he started cooking, he’ll tell the familiar, comical story of learning the family recipe for pecan pie over the telephone from his dad during his first day on the job.
He’s got stories of famous patrons: Elvis, Dolly Parton and Earl Campbell.
“Dolly Parton was going to perform once in town,” he says, recalling the day the Porter Wagoner tour bus pulled up out front.
“Someone called ahead and wanted to reserve the restaurant that day at 3 o’clock, which was fine with me because we are slow at that time a day anyway, so I set up the back room here. They asked me not to tell anyone she was coming, but when that big bus pulled up out front in the parking lot, people kind of figured it out.”
Lines of locals descended on the establishment, while Dolly and 40 others dined on T-Bone steaks in the same chairs still rounding the tables.
Jerry insists becoming a good cook has everything to do with common sense. He advises the novice to get their hands on a cookbook and recipe file that’s proven to work.
“Get the recipe book and learn all the weights and measurements,” he says. “Read the recipes, learn them.
“Even now, you know what my wife does when she is not here? I walk in and find her doing one of three things at home. She’s either watching the Food channel, reading Bon Appetit magazine or on the computer looking up recipes. She goes on a regular basis to look up recipes.”
Getting started may seem like a simple task for someone who can fry a perfect batch of chicken livers in his sleep, but Jerry has a lot on his side, to include the heavy 20-quart cooking pots that line the kitchen shelves.
“My dad bought these pots when I was a baby, and since I took over in 1970, I’ve never bought a pot,” he says, examining the weight of the old cast iron vessels. “They really don’t make them like this anymore.”
It’s those pots that make the perfect serving of candied yams, Jerry says.
COOKING THE BEST CANDIED YAMS
As told to the Tyler Paper by Jerry Loggins
“You have to start with a heavy pot, not one of those thin, stainless steel pots. You’ll also need fresh yams and (peel and) slice them the size you want.
“Put them in the pot, but you know, use common sense whether you’re cooking for six or 60.
“You want to cover the yams with sugar and zero water. A lot of people think they have to use water, but zero water. Cover with sugar until you can’t see the yams. That’s a lot of sugar.
“Add butter. We add a pound, but if you’re making it for six, use 1/2 a stick. Add some light Karo syrup (about 1/2 cup for six-person serving) and egg shade food color.
“That’s a mix of red and yellow, and I don’t think you can get that in the store. I’ve never seen it in the store.
“Cook it over medium until the yams are tender — try them with a knife.
“Then turn the fire off and add vanilla (about 1/2 tsp. for six-person serving). If you add it too soon, it will boil out too quick.
“Put the yams in a serving dish and that’s it.”
Jerry says the demand for his yams was so high over the years, he began offering them on a daily basis for the lunch buffet.
Jerry says the demand for his yams was so high over the years, he began offering them on a daily basis for the lunch buffet.
And he adds that although candied yams are a popular dish, there are other favorites in the fryer, on the griddle or in the oven everyday at the restaurant.
“I take my dad’s advice,” he says. “Don’t ever serve anything to a customer you wouldn’t eat yourself.”






